The Secret
by GW Katrina
Summary: The reason Frodo seems so different.


TITLE: The Secret  
AUTHOR: GW Katrina  
BETA: Rebecca. Any mistakes are mine for not listening.  
RATING: PG-13  
PAIRING: None  
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them. If I did.... *drools*  
SUMMARY: The reason Frodo seems so different  
NOTES: This is a none slash piece. Sorry if that offends anyone.   
Also, this is just what happens in my twisted little version of ME.   
*glares at muse* Someone, help me. Tell my sick little muse that I   
don't want to do a X-over between LotR and Matrix. *screams*  
  
  
Primula Baggins was an extremely unhappy hobbit. Her   
husband, Drogo Baggins, whom she was going to kill   
when she got her hands on him, had promised to go   
mushroom hunting with her, but had never appeared.  
  
Now, muttering angrily, Primula waddled down the path   
heading for home. Heavily pregnant, she looked like a   
large pumpkin, as she was dressed in a vibrant orange   
color.  
  
So angry was she that she ran right into another   
hobbit, who had been admiring the woods. With yelps,   
they both fell, tumbling down the gentle slope. The   
pair slid to a stop, Primula on top, arms wrapped   
protectively around her stomach. Below her came   
muffled curses, some in another language.  
  
The voice and the fact that a few of the words were   
elvish told Primula who she had crashed into.   
  
"Oh, Bilbo, I am so sorry," she cried, trying her best   
to move off her cousin. She wasn't very successful,   
since hobbits are round things anyway, and a pregnant   
hobbit was little more than a ball on legs.  
  
Helping Primula up as best he could, Bilbo Baggins   
grinned. "That's quite all right, my dear. I was   
wondering who had walked into me, that's all."   
Together, they finally were able to get her on her   
feet. "Are you all right?"  
  
Hands rubbing gently on her stomach, Primula   
nodded. "I believe so. My young Mr. Frodo seems to   
have slept right through everything." As she began to   
dust herself off, her bright brown eyes were glinting   
with mischief. "So you were wondering who walked into   
you, hm? Is that what those elvish phrases mean?"  
  
Bilbo had the grace to blush, but held himself with   
dignity. A hand settled on Primula's stomach. "Still   
expecting a lad, are you? I know that Drogo has his   
heart set on a lass."  
  
Brown eyes narrowed. "Well, I don't care what that   
husband of mine wants."  
  
Blinking his own brown eyes, Bilbo hemmed and   
hawed. "Um, well, I, oh.... Let's get back onto the   
path, shall we. Are you sure you are all right?"  
  
"YES!" snapped Primula, who then blushed. "I am   
dreadfully sorry, Bilbo. I am just very frustrated   
with Drogo. He promised to help me hunt mushrooms, but   
he never showed up. That's why I didn't notice you."  
  
If she a comment from Bilbo, she did not receive one.   
Instead, Bilbo began to make his way up the hill to   
the path, keeping one hand on her arm as she followed.   
They were most of the way up when everything changed.  
  
Unbalanced enough to lose her natural hobbit   
gracefulness, Primula slipped, once more falling into   
Bilbo. This time, however, her hand smacked his belt,   
leading to an unexpected result.  
  
There was a thin chain attached to Bilbo's belt, and   
from that chain hung a golden ring. As Primula tried   
to regain her balance, her hand tangled in the chain,   
long enough for that small ring to slip onto her   
finger.  
  
Primula gasped as everything around her changed.   
Shapes vanished, replaced by dark shadows. A roaring   
sound filled her ears. Over the roar, she heard Bilbo   
cry out in shock. Then he yelled something at her,   
something she could barely hear.  
  
"TAKE IT OFF!"  
  
For a split second, she did not understand what he   
meant. Take what off? Then something began to warm on   
her finger. Tearing her eyes off the terrifying   
scenery around her, Primula looked at her hand.  
  
On the third finger of her right hand was a ring. A   
plain golden band that began to burn, as if she had   
thrust it into a fire.  
  
With a cry, she grasped it, all too willing to rid   
herself of it. Even as she reached for it, the fire   
spiked up her arm. From there, it thrust deep, like a   
coal in her stomach.  
  
This time she could only gasp, and within her swollen   
stomach, her tiny baby began to thrash. She could feel   
the kicks and twists as her unborn child seemed to   
fight something.  
  
All at once, her vision returned to normal, the roar   
vanishing from her ears. In her hand was the golden   
ring, which she dropped. Both hands clutched her   
stomach as Bilbo snatched up the ring.  
  
"You must be careful," he almost yelled, making sure   
to securely place the ring in his pocket. "You never   
know when...." He broke off when she screamed.  
  
Brown eyes shot from his pocket to his cousin, who was   
sinking to the ground, hands pressed against her full   
belly. "Something's wrong," Primula cried. Her eyes   
were filled with rising panic. "Something is horribly   
wrong."  
  
Bilbo didn't question her. Hobbit lasses always knew   
how their babies were, and when one said something was   
wrong, it was time to see the healer.  
  
He had only taken one step towards her when Primula   
screamed again, her body tensing. "Oh, stars, Bilbo!"   
she whimpered. "I think my baby's dying."  
  
Since the fire had struck her, Primula had felt her   
child struggling. Now, the movements were growing   
faint, and in her heart, she knew it for a fact it was   
because her baby was fading. More pain ripped through   
her, and the stricken hobbit passed out.  
  
With a strength a Big Folk would be surprised at,   
Bilbo quickly lifted his cousin and hurried onto the   
path. From there, he ran as fast as possible to the   
closest healer.  
  
As Primrose Took, the local healer, looked over   
Primula, the lass herself woke up, crying in pain. "My   
baby," she gasped, feeling another wave of pain streak   
through her body, and the life in her go a little   
stiller.  
  
"There's something bad wrong," muttered   
Primrose. "You're bleeding heavily, and that's very   
wrong." Her eyes, full of worry, met Primula's. "You   
may lose him."  
  
"NO!" screamed Primula, hand tightening on Bilbo's   
arm. The hobbit she clung to was slightly   
uncomfortable, since he had the sneaking suspicion   
that the ring he carried was the cause of this.  
  
"You." Bilbo looked up and met Primrose's   
eyes. "You're friends with that wizard. He's down in   
Buckleberry, entertaining the littles." Primula gave a   
choked sob at the word 'littles'. "This is past my   
skill to fix. Past any in the Shire's, except,   
possibly, Gandalf's. You must fetch him, or else we   
might lose them both."  
  
Seeing his cousin's pale face, and the blood staining   
the bed sheets a bright crimson, Bilbo left. Grabbing   
the fastest pony he could find, the hobbit rode hard.   
The poor pony was panting and white eyed by the time   
they came to a stop in a field outside of Buckleberry.  
  
There was Gandalf, creating interesting things from   
smoke for the small hobbit children that surrounded   
him. When he saw Bilbo, and the blood staining the   
hobbit's shirt, the wizard stopped what he was doing   
and rushed over.  
  
"Bilbo, what has happened?"  
  
Panting almost as hard as his pony, Bilbo told Gandalf   
what had gone on. The wizard's eyes narrowed when he   
heard that Primula had accidently put on the ring.  
  
"We must go to her, quickly," the tall man said,   
giving a sharp whistle. His horse, which had been   
grazing a the edge of the field, galloped up. Picking   
Bilbo up, Gandalf settled both of them securely on the   
horse's back, then they were off. Racing to save a   
hobbit and her baby.  
  
The scenery blurred around them, but they were going   
too slow for Bilbo. It was his fault that his dear   
cousin was in such distress, that the first in the new   
generation of cousins might die before even born.  
  
The horse was soon at Primrose's home, and Gandalf   
leapt from the horse's back and rushed to the door.   
Bilbo slid down with a bit more care, but soon hurried   
after his friend.  
  
In front of him, Gandalf stopped to fast that Bilbo   
ran into him. Becoming wrapped in the man's robes, it   
took a minute for Bilbo to work his way loose. Once   
free, he peered around the wizard's legs, since   
Gandalf still stood in the doorway.  
  
Someone must have found Drogo, since he was kneeling   
besides his wife, his hand in her white-knuckled grip.   
Primula's face was a mask of pain and worry, her lips   
grey. The dress she wore and the sheets she laid on   
were stained red, and in the corner of Bilbo's mind,   
he knew that if the baby still lived it was a miracle.  
  
The rest of Bilbo's attention was caught by three   
tall, slender women, one in green, one in grey, and   
one in black.  
  
Greenclad and black were next to Primula's head, each   
crooning soothing words, gently stroking her face, and   
generally keeping her attention on them, even when she   
flinched with new pain.  
  
The one in grey was kneeling next to Primrose, both   
mumbling in the half words of well-trained healers.   
Blood was streaked across the stranger's forehead.   
Understandable, since she was stained to the elbows   
with it.  
  
Primula screamed again, back arching. The one in grey   
cursed in a language that sounded almost elvish, then   
she looked at the other two. "She's losing him."  
  
Both Drogo and Primula cried out, and Primula paled   
even further. "Please," she begged, tears streaming   
down her face. "Save my baby."  
  
The three women, Bilbo suddenly realized, shared the   
exact same eyes. Deep blue eyes that seemed to glow   
with power as strange words spilled from their mouths.   
The chanting grew louder, and a unusual wind blew   
through the home. The woman in grey placed her hands   
on Primula's stomach, the one in green's hands rested   
on either side of the hobbit lass's face, and the one   
in black did something odd.  
  
She began to weep.  
  
"When I tell you," said the grey one. "I want you to   
push. Push as hard as you can."   
  
Nodding, Primula gritted her teeth, ignoring the pain   
that tore her.  
  
"I warn you, this will hurt. Worse than now, for you   
will feel normal birth pain as well as these unnatural   
pangs."  
  
Birth pains! Bilbo blinked and swallowed hard. He was   
a bachelor, as well as a gentlehobbit. He had   
never seen anything born. A part of him was screaming   
to run, but the rest of him was frozen.  
  
A high-pitched keen worked its way through Primula's   
clenched jaw. Muscles rippled across her stomach, and   
more fluid rushed from her, heavily tinged with blood.  
  
Bilbo felt the world dim for a second, then everything   
snapped back into focus as a large hand rested on his   
shoulder. Gandalf helped balance him, pale eyes   
focused on the scene in the room.  
  
"Gandalf," Bilbo whispered, afraid to be louder. "Who   
are they?"  
  
"Ones who can help you dear cousin far better than any   
other here," was Gandalf's quiet answer.  
  
Before the slightly stunned hobbit could say anything   
else, a scream ripped through the air. Both hobbit and   
wizard returned their attention to the drama in the   
room.  
  
"Push," cried the grey clad woman before chanting in   
the strange, fluid words. Curling upwards, Primula   
pushed as hard as she could. "Again," said the woman,   
shifting slightly, blocking the view of those in the   
doorway.  
  
Even from where they stood, Bilbo and Gandalf could   
hear a moist, splitting noise. Once again, the world   
wavered around Bilbo, and he leaned against Gandalf's   
leg.  
  
Greyclad woman turned to the ones by Primula's head. A   
tiny hobbit child seemed even smaller in her man sized   
hands. "Nienna, take him."  
  
As the black robed woman took the small form, Primula   
felt tears stream down her face. Her baby, her Frodo,   
was so still, his skin pale and tinged with blue.   
Drogo's hand squeezed her's tightly. "He's all right,"   
he murmured. "Isn't he, Lady?"  
  
"He will be," answered the one called Nienna. As pale   
as the child she now held, Nienna's blue eyes wept   
more tears. They slid over high cheekbones, past full   
lips, and fell from her pointed chin. One, two, three   
tears landed on the still baby, and the blue seemed to   
melt from him, leaving his pale, but not deadly so.   
Still, the babe did not stir.  
  
"What is to be his name?" asked Nienna.  
  
"Frodo," whispered Drogo, hope rising in his pale   
brown, almost golden, eyes. Hope that as echoed in the   
deep brown ones of his wife.  
  
Another tear spilled from Nienna's eye, and she caught   
in on her finger. "I name you Frodo, tiny one. Wake   
and accept." The tear-tipped finger slid between pale   
lips.  
  
The hand on Bilbo's shoulder tightened almost   
painfully. When he looked up, the hobbit was surprised   
to see a look of total, dumbfounded shock on the   
wizard's face. "Ga...." Another squeeze, and Bilbo   
fell silent.  
  
As the tear wetted his mouth, the baby, Frodo,   
swallowed and began to move. Primula cried out in joy   
and relaxed, her own tears turning to tears of   
pleasure.  
  
The one who had played midwife placed her hands on   
Primula's stomach and spoke a few words. A faint glow   
seemed to spread through the joyful hobbit, but none   
were paying attention.  
  
Nienna passed Frodo to the woman in green robes, who   
in turn pulled out a soft cloth from an inner pocket.   
With the green material, she wiped the child clean,   
speaking softly in the strange tongue.  
  
Finally, Primula held her newborn son. "Hello, Frodo,"   
she whispered happily. "I'm very glad to see you. So   
very glad."  
  
At that moment, Frodo opened his eyes for the first   
time. Eyes the color of clear winter skies looked at   
her with amazing sharpness. "His eyes," Drogo said   
with surprise.  
  
Primrose smiled as she looked over the new baby. "Aye.   
All hobbits are born with blue eyes. They'll turn   
brown quick enough. Don't worry."  
  
The three strangers rose, making their way to the   
door. "Wait," called Drogo. "Is there nothing we can   
do to repay you? You have given us the greatest gift   
possible...."  
  
"Not as great as you would believe," said the grey   
one. Her eyes were sad. "You shall never bear another   
child. Young Frodo was forced from you, and it tore   
you inside. He shall be your only one. I am sorry. For   
you to keep the ability to have children, Frodo would   
have had to perish before he was born."  
  
"Then I am just as glad to have no others," said   
Primula, holding her baby close. "For I could no more   
lose my Frodo than lose my very heart. They are one   
and the same."  
  
"Then may you be well protected," said the one in   
green. "May your family be blessed by love."  
  
Before anyone could do or say any more, the three were   
gone. They slid out the door as if neither Bilbo or   
Gandalf were there, and vanished into the woods.  
  
"Cousin Bilbo," laughed Drogo. "We have the tradition   
backwards." Bilbo tore his eyes from where the three   
strangers had vanished and looked at the new parents.   
Drogo's smile threaten to split his face in half. "For   
this year, you have recieve a present on your   
birthday."  
  
With a start, Bilbo realized that Drogo was right. A   
chuckle rose from him. "Well, Frodo Baggins," he said,   
moving into the room next to the trio. "We will have   
to celebrate our birthdays together, someday."  
  
No one noticed as Gandalf slid away. The wizard looked   
only a few minutes before he found what he was   
searching for.  
  
"I had not expected to see you, my lady," he said,   
standing next to the black robed woman, Nienna. "May I   
ask why?"  
  
A smile crossed her face, yet Nienna continued to   
weep. "We came for two reasons." A pause. "That ring   
you friend wears is very special. But should never be   
worn by a lass of any race. Why that is is something   
you should find out."  
  
She laughed at Gandalf's expression. "You were always   
one of my favorites. I miss seeing you. Now, I must   
return home."  
  
As she turned to leave, Nienna heard Gandalf ask   
something. "You said two reasons, Lady. One you refuse   
to give, but what of the second?"  
  
"I am a mother. A mother who does what she can to   
protect all of her children." With that she vanished.  
  
The three women smiled as Gandalf moved away,   
muttering about answers that made no sense.  
  
"You know," started the one in grey. "That healer was   
wrong."  
  
"How so, sister of my heart?" asked the one in green,   
who was bouncing in place.  
  
"She told them young Frodo's eyes will change.   
They won't. He's been marked forever by what we did."  
  
"It is all right," said Nienna. "It was that or we   
allowed the ring to steal innocent life from innocent   
life. That would have allowed Sauron to regain power,   
enough that he could free his dark master. Something   
that cannot be permitted. Ever."  
  
"And as you told the wizard, we are mothers. What sort   
of mother would leave her child in pain if she could   
stop it?" said the grey one.  
  
"Agreed," said Nienna. "Let us return home."  
  
The three strangers vanished from Middle Earth.  
  
The End 


End file.
